Pardon Goddess of the Night
by Winterbloom
Summary: An older piece of mine, wherein a newly regenerated and companionless Eighth Doctor has to confront his fears.


Pardon Goddess of the Night 

This is an older piece, much older.I had honestly thought I'd lost it when my old Compaq bit the proverbial dust, but it seems that someone out there save a copy for me and sent it along to me today as I wondered what had ever happened to it.It's in the BUVA period of my work.I studied writing for a summer down at the University of Virginia, so this is Before UVA.Be gentle; I did honestly learn to write better, but everyone has to start somewhere.

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**Pardon Goddess of the Night**

Winterbloom

_ _

_I felt her presence, by its spell of might,_

_Stoop o'er me from above;  
The calm, majestic presence of the Night,_

_As of the one I love._

_ _

_I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight,_

_The manifold, soft chimes,  
That fill the haunted chambers of the Night,_

_Like some old poets rhymes._

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,  
_Hymn to the Night_

_ _

It wasn't as if he'd never seen this room before. He'd been in it more times than he could remember. So many people had passed through its doors of one form or another. All gone, now. He was in the dark, quite alone. It had never bothered him before. 

So why did it strike terror in his hearts now? 

His whole body trembled, and he felt his hearts start to race. The Doctor was terribly frightened. Yet there seemed no great reason behind it. It was as if there was some spirit pressing against his chest, forcing all the air out of his lungs. He held his head up for one moment, trying to keep it at bay. Unfortunately, there was no success. He bolted out of the room, smashing the great doors against the long-suffering TARDIS walls with a cry of anguish. A cold breath of air, faint as a whisper, blew across the back of his neck. It lifted the long, honey-brown curls from the back of his neck with the gentle touch of a caress. Shivering once more, he firmly shut the doors against the darkness of that room. 

"Tea. Yes...that's all I need. A nice cup of hot tea with milk and sugar...and why am I talking to myself?" It wasn't so much that question that bothered him. The Doctor had always talked to himself, often with great frequency. It was the question that lay behind it: Why am I alone? There was no-one for him to be brave for when he was alone. Ace had once asked him what frightened him. He remembered it so well.... 

"C'mon, professor. There has to be something," she insisted when he replied there wasn't a thing that frightened him anymore. 

"Why is that?" He was being ambiguous on purpose, not really wanting to answer her question. To be honest, he did not want to think about it. 

"Everyone is scared of something. You know what I'm scared of." He nodded, looking at her. Ace wasn't as tough as she pretended to be. Granted, she could stand just about anything, and not let anyone know she was frightened. But it was what happened in her mind that gave the Doctor cause to be concerned sometimes. 

"Yes." 

"So...tell me." Her face was eager, honest, almost searching. It was like a quest to Ace. She needed to know he was frightened, too, sometimes. Just so he would be real to her. He could be this enigma with bad diction, and seem as far away as the end of time. The Doctor was aware of it, too, and did it consciously at times. It had its uses, just as most things did. Sighing, he set down the thick tome he was attempting to read when she had come in. 

"You really want to know, don't you?" Ace nodded enthusiastically. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this. It's rather hard to explain. I'm afraid of being alone. Not just by myself for a while, but truly alone. Dying alone. The Universe is a huge place to wander, and Time a huge responsibility to have in isolation. There's no reason to be brave when there's no-one to be brave for." His voice was sad, almost wistful. Ace looked at him again, and he seemed to have changed. He wasn't an omnipresent creature, or an enigma with bad diction. He was her friend, a friend who needed her. And it was true. He did need her around; anyone to fill the void being a renegade was at times. 

"It's okay, Doctor. And, well...thanks.".... 

Her voice faded as the Doctor was brought back to the present. He had walked to the kitchen, or what could pass for one, while he was lost in thought. It was bright and cheery, filled with copper pots that gleamed in the light, and sky blue walls. They were like the sky on a brilliant summers day on Earth. The kind when you are standing on a beach, and you look out over the water that seems to extend forever to the distant horizon, and your gaze takes it all in. The kind when you can still smell the salt air and hear the gulls and the waves. The kind when you knew you were really happy for once, and there were no troubles bearing down on you. The Doctor had experienced so few of those days recently. How he missed them. It wasn't so much the sea or the sun or the sky he missed, but the people who were always with him. He never went to the beach alone. Picnics and tide pools are no fun if you are by yourself. He had taken Susan to the beach long ago, Zoe and Jamie once, too. Jo went with him in Bessie, laughing in her charming fashion. Convincing Romana to go wading was a feat, but once completed, it was one of his fondest memories of her. He had played a makeshift game of cricket with Nyssa, Adric and Tegan, and went swimming with Peri. Even Ace built sand castles with him. What affairs those were, all full of Gothic towers and flags of driftwood and handkerchiefs. So many happy memories. He had quite a few happy memories, actually. They just did not want to show up most of the time. 

He set the kettle on to boil, humming snatches of Puccini's _Madama Butterfly_, which would always belong to Grace, as far as he was concerned. How he wished Grace had come with him. But the Doctor respected her decision, and that would never change. He didn't regret it, for there was no time for regrets. He had even said it once._ I am a Time Lord. I walk in eternity. And that means no going back, no regrets..._ He fished around in cupboards for some china, along with tea, milk and sugar. Upon catching sight of the empty sugar jar, which he had been meaning to refill for a while, he opted for honey instead. He hadn't used that sugar jar for...oh, ages. After Romana, who only liked milk when she took tea, it seemed to become a trend not to like sugar all that much. Hadn't he disliked sweet tea just a few weeks ago...? It didn't matter, anyway. Regenerations had a way of playing tricks on his mind. Being forgetful didn't matter so much, either, at that moment. There was no-one to be brave for. He could be frightened, and let his mind wander through the dark corridors that existed without worrying if anyone would be hurt. He anchored the TARDIS in the Vortex, and planned on staying there. There was no reason why he couldn't. 

The whistle of the kettle blew and brought him back once more. He set down the china cup, and noticed that the edge was chipped ever so slightly. He made a little noise of disappointment, for it really was his favourite, but proceeded to make tea in it anyway. It was such a pretty little object that the hated to throw it away. All white, with delicate gold stars and borders around the edges. He knew he could get another if he really looked for it, but he was so fond of that one. A trivial matter, anyway. 

He headed towards the library, as far from the source of his fear as he could get. It wasn't the physical distance so much as the mental one. The Doctor knew he could loose himself in a book if he wanted to. Put on some jazz, read a bit, drink his tea...yes, it would all be forgotten. Maybe even sleep a little. He very rarely slept now, and if he did, it was for short bursts of extremely deep sleep. It was close to being in a coma, perhaps too close. But it did keep him from having dreams. Wretched dreams that played with his mind and stayed in the corner until the moment was right and haunt him all over again. It was a moment of venerability. He did not let his companions see him sleep. No, that was not true. Nyssa did, once. After Adric's death.... 

The Doctor went into Adric's room one last time. There was no real reason behind it, but he did it all the same. He was physically and mentally exhausted. Emotionally, he was a train wreck. He had looked around at all the objects and books the boy had collected, and started to weep silently. Such guilt he felt then. For arguing with him, and not being as attentive as he should have been. For letting him stay on the freighter. For being on the freighter in the first place. Tears ran down his cheeks as he saw Adric in everything there. The Doctor sat on the bed, permanently unmade, and let his mind go. Let himself drift. He was asleep within moments. When he awoke, there was no more guilt. It was as if Adric himself had forgiven the Doctor in his dreams. Perhaps he had. The Doctor was then aware of someone stroking his forehead very gently, pushing his hair away from his still closed eyes. He opened his eyes to see Nyssa sitting beside him. 

"I was worried about you. Tegan and I...we both...after everything..." Her voice trailed off, not really wanting to mention Adric, and not really knowing what to say. She wasn't sure why she knew she would find the Time Lord in Adric's room. She wasn't sure why she sat with him as he slept for hours. All she knew was that she was terribly concerned. She just looked so charming in that moment, and the Doctor felt better knowing she was there. 

"I know. Sorry for disappearing like that." He spoke quietly, and rolled over on to his back to look at her more clearly. 

"You need your rest. I'll leave you now." 

Gently, he took her hand, as if it were a bird that he might crush in his fingers. "No. Please stay. I don't really want to...to be alone." 

She nodded and squeezed his hand tenderly. He did not go back to sleep, or at least he did not intend to. They talked for a while about everything and nothing at all. After a while, he dozed off again. Nyssa only smiled and covered him with a blanket. He needed someone to care for him so desperately sometimes. Someone to fetch him some tea and keep him warm. To stay with him when everything was too much. To comfort him. Nyssa wished she could do it forever. How she cared for him.... 

The Doctor settled in a chair, setting his tea down. He did not want to read, nor listen to music. He just wanted some rest. Actually, he wanted someone to tell him he needed rest, but telling himself would just have to do. He curled up, and stopped. 

"I can actually curl up in this chair? Hmmm..." He couldn't a few weeks ago. He did not want to a few weeks ago. It didn't really matter, anyway. His eyelids started to droop over his intense green eyes, letting his body relax. He was dreaming within minutes, and somehow he did not mind so much that he was. It was almost as if he could deal with it. That feeling did not last for long. 

With a whispered curse, his eyes shot open, full of fear. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to regain discipline. It wasn't happening. His breath came in short bursts, and he whimpered slightly. He couldn't even remember what the dream was, but it was terribly frightening. It had to do with that room again...there was no choice. He had to go in there again. Face his fear. He did not want to, but the Doctor knew he couldn't keep fleeing from it for long. Running his fingers through his hair, he sat up. He was shaken, physically and emotionally. Gulping down the last few swallows of his now luke-warm tea, he stopped trembling. He stood up and straightened the forest green velvet jacket. He was becoming rather fond of it, actually. Not bad for another stolen set of clothes. 

The Doctor walked quickly, quietly down the TARDIS corridors. It was as if he was watching the entire thing on television or something, for he was no more in the midst of it than Ho Chi Minh was. Not that he watched much television at all, but it seemed an appropriate metaphor. It wasn't quite big enough for a motion picture, after all. He was only one man. One man who tended to be rather important to the continued existence of the universe and Time, but one man nonetheless. It was only a short walk, when speaking in terms of physical distance, but mentally, it was endless. His steps lost their steady, measured beat the closer he came to the doors, and became a slow drag. A funeral march that echoed all around him. 

"I am not afraid." His voice was little more than a whisper, and he clenched his fists into balls. "I am not afraid." He repeated it, a little louder, pronouncing every consonant carefully. It was almost a mantra. Reaching out, he opened the doors carefully, and peered in the darkness that lay beyond them. Nothing had changed since last he saw it, of course. If things had changed, the Doctor would have been rather put out, and probably never would have entered it again. But, as it stood, things were as they should be. Empty, dark and foreboding. Hesitantly, he set foot past the door frame. Everything was fine, except for the cold sweat that broke out on his forehead. Ignoring that, he took another uncertain step. He had cleared the doors. He was inside. Alone. And nothing had happened. Not yet. 

"I am not afraid..." The words died on his lips as the doors swung shut, leaving the room in total darkness. He shivered, feeling the fear welling up inside him, threatening to overflow into something he could not control. The Doctor always was in control. He constantly was plotting something, invariably ready. Ceaselessly. But not at that moment. 

In the depths of the inky darkness before his eyes, he could perceive a faint glow. It was like a firefly metres away. Bright enough to know it's there, but dim enough that it's uncertain. He strained to discern the source of the light. As he did, it grew steadily brighter, coming closer. The Doctor took a step backwards, then another. His back was against the doors. There was nowhere to go. He was trapped in the room, with something coming towards him from the gloom. The something drew closer and closer still, brightening. The fear had solidified into a lump of granite in his throat, threatening to choke him. His hands flew up to his neck, and his breath came in short, ragged bursts. There was no escaping what was coming closer and closer still to him, no where to run. 

"_Doctor..._" It was a voice carried to his ear on a breeze, faint and delicate. It hovered in mid-air until entering his ear and sending chills down his spine. Wistful and ghostly, it made what little air he had in his lungs catch in his throat. His body shut down entirely, soon followed by his panic-stricken mind. The Doctor's limp form hit the floor with a soft thump, devoid of life. Moments later, his systems began to work again, his hearts beating and lungs pulling in oxygen. But he did not stir. 

The light settled next to him, and then surrounded him in its glow. The Doctor's long fingers twitched slightly, and soon afterward his eyelids fluttered. The light pulled back from him, and then started to create a definite form for itself. The light brightened and dimmed, brightened and dimmed again as its shape became distinct. Feminine, and familiar to the Doctor. Short blonde hair, a bright and sunny expression. Sitting on the floor by his side, legs curled up underneath her, she waited. The Doctor came around a few moments later, groggy and disoriented. The normal TARDIS hum was not audible here, and it threw him. But not as much as what he saw when he opened his eyes. 

"Jo...? But how...?" His voice was barely a whisper as he tried to sit up. Jo took his arm and helped him a little. 

"Steady now, Doctor. Everything's just fine." 

He looked at her intently, studied her green dress, her blue eyes, everything about her. He hadn't seen her in so long... "No...no, it's not. You can't be here." 

Jo flashed a sweet smile at him. "Of course I can. I've been in this room before. Don't you remember?" 

The Doctor shook his head. "That's not what I meant. You cannot be here now with me. It's impossible." 

"Anything is possible, Doctor." 

"This is my seventh regeneration. You travelled with my second. I'm in the Vortex, and nothing can get in or out of my TARDIS without my landing. Therefore, you cannot be here." 

Jo's smile faded a little. Why did the Doctor always have to be so difficult? "I'm not really here. Not in the physical sense. I wish I was." 

He rubbed his brow, slightly confused. "Come again?" 

"I'm still with my Doctor and UNIT in reality. But a part of me is always here. I was in this room once with you, and although I left, the essence of me never did. I have been here, waiting for you." She stood up, and extended her small hand, indicating for him to take it. "And now you're here," she said cheerfully. He did as she wished, and slowly got to his feet. 

"I don't understand." 

"I would call it magic, but you went out of your way to show me that there is no such thing. Science accomplishes everything. So perhaps this is a feat of science even you do not understand." They started to walk, the area about them lit dimly, but the darkness still encroached upon them. He shivered a little. Jo pulled on his hand a little, encouraging to venture deeper into the room. The Doctor balked. 

"Jo, please..." 

She looked at him curiously. "I'm only here to comfort you, Doctor. You have to do this yourself." He let go of her hand and backed up a few steps. His face wore an expression of pure horror at going any further. "I see," she said, dispirited. 

"I can't. Please, can't you understand...?" he implored. 

Jo walked backwards into the gloom, eyes never leaving him. "I'm sorry, Doctor. But I'm always with you. You're never alone. Trust in that." She was quickly swallowed by the darkness. The Doctor reached out for her. 

"Jo? Jo?!" There was no reply. He looked around him, eyes piercing the dim light. There was no sign of anyone. "What the devil is going on here?" he whispered. Deciding that he truly did not want the answer to that question, he backed up a little more and peered into the inky depths that engulfed Jo. 

"Are you runnin' off now, Doctor?" 

The Doctor froze. He knew that voice, that soft Scottish burr. 

"Running off...? Jamie, you know me better than that." 

The Highlander materialised before his eyes in a flash of golden light. Young and smiling, clad in his kilt and plaid, he was just as the Doctor knew him. "Aye, I do. That's why I can't understand what you're doin' now." Confidently, Jamie strode towards the Doctor. 

"Whatever do you mean?" 

Jamie looked to Doctor up and down. His voice took on a chill like the wind that swept across the Highlands in January. "You wouldn't let your fears control you before, Doctor. And you wouldn't let our fears control us. What happened to your strength, your heart?" 

The Doctor looked down, suddenly ashamed. He made a hopeless gesture with his hands. "I don't know." 

"And do you know that there's nothin' to be frightened of in this wee room?" 

"It's not all that little, actually," the Doctor protested weakly. 

Jamie frowned. "C'mon, Doctor. This isn't like you." 

"Things change. People change." He looked at the young Scot. How long had it been since Jamie had been with him and Zoe? How long ago since the Time Lords sent him back to Scotland with no memories of the Doctor, Zoe, Victoria or the TARDIS? It seemed like ages and ages ago, and he could acutely remember the events, people and losses that had changed him since he was last with Jamie. 

"Aye...aye, they do. But not like this." 

The Doctor smiled sadly. "Why are you here, James Robert McCrimmon? Why have I called your ghost now?" 

Jamie shrugged, and paused a moment before answering. "Because you needed a reminder. A reminder of your strength, how brave you were, can be and still are. And that's what I am. I was here once, and I'm always here. And so is the strength within you. You just have to find it and use it." 

The Doctor nodded. "I don't know if I can." 

Jamie made a tsking noise, and reached for the Doctors shoulder. He clapped his large, rough hand upon it, a hand that coaxed music from bagpipes, fought the British army for his homeland, nursed his fallen Laird, protected Zoe from dangers real and imagined, comforted Victoria in times of sorrow."Of course you can. I know it. You just have to find that strength in you again. Now, c'mon Doctor. Let's go. You can't cower on the edge any longer." With a little pressure on his shoulder, Jamie pulled the Doctor a step closer. Panic welled up in him, but the Doctor fought it down. 

"No, I suppose not." He pulled in a deep breath and started to walk. Jamie took a few steps, the vanished as quickly as he had come. "Jamie?" There was no reply, and the Doctor didn't really expect one. He straightened his shoulders, and kept going. The blackness was almost tangible. He hated it. One never knew what or who was lurking in the gloom. But he was the Bringer of Darkness. The Daleks called him that, and for good reason. When was the last time he fought the Daleks? He remembered. During his seventh incarnation, with... 

"Professor!" 

With Ace. He whirled around to see her behind him. One never did know what was lurking in the darkness. Wearing her black bomber jacket covered in badges, baseball bat in hand, Ace flashed him a grin that disappeared as quickly as it lit up her face. 

"Hello, Ace." 

Quickly, she walked over to him. "Hey, Professor. Aren't you going to say that I can't be here, too?" 

He stopped walking and smiled. "Who am I to say where Time's Vigilante can and cannot be?" 

"Good question. Now here's one for you: what are you frightened of?" 

A look of surprise crossed the Doctor's features. "I've answered that question before." 

Ace shook her head. "I don't see anything in this room that would suggest dying alone, Doctor." 

Suddenly ashamed, the Doctor looked down. "It's not so much that...and that was a long time ago...a lifetime ago." 

She looked him up and down. "Yeah. I can tell. My Doctor wouldn't be doing this." 

The Doctor's head shot up. "Yes, because I'm not your Doctor anymore. I'm different. I don't know who I am, but that's not me anymore. I'm not dark and manipulative. I'm not cold and calculating. I'm not who I was." 

Ace grinned again. "Now you're getting it. That's past, and no matter how much you hate to do it, you have to let go of it." 

"What do you mean, let go?" 

"I mean that my Doctor is not you anymore. You can't be expected to act like him, to have the same fears. You've been trying to. You aren't scared of this room. He was. I know that. I watched his face when we went in here. This is the heart of your TARDIS, and your heart as well. This is where your history is. He was frightened of his history, ran from it. You can't run from it anymore." 

The Doctor nodded. "No, I can't. That's what I've been doing, isn't it?" 

"Yes." 

"And that's why my phantoms keep coming back to me, isn't it?" 

"Yes. But we are the people you loved, Doctor. We want to help. We trusted you enough to come in here. Trust us enough to go to the centre, to overcome your fear." Ace patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. She smiled at him once more, and then ran off into the darkness she came from. He watched the darkness where she vanished for a moment, then trudged on again. 

"To the centre, eh?" There was no choice but to continue. It didn't seem so dark anymore, and wasn't as bad. Perhaps Ace was right. Maybe the fear of this room wasn't his anymore. Maybe that belonged to the self who died in San Francisco. Maybe he wasn't afraid anymore. 

There was a faint light ahead, and he moved steadily towards it. Any light seemed preferable to his current condition. The Doctor could vaguely make out the stone benches he knew so well. But there was something else there...no, not something. Someone else. Sitting on the bench. A small girl, with long curly hair. 

"Nyssa?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper. She stood, and the Doctor could make out her features more clearly as he continued to move towards her. 

"Yes, Doctor. It's me." 

How he loved to hear her voice! His astonishment gone, his face lit up in a smile of pure joy. There she was, just as he remembered her. He swept her up in a strong embrace, and she laughed. 

"It's so wonderful to see you." They parted, and sat down. 

"I've been here for a while, waiting." 

He looked at her curiously. "Waiting?" 

She nodded. "Waiting for you to come back. You always did. It just took you a little longer this time." 

The Doctor thought about that for a moment. "Yes...yes I suppose it did." 

"I never really wanted to leave you, Doctor. You were...like a father to me, and I cared for you very much. I still do. That's why I'm here." 

"I cared for you, too, Nyssa. Very much so. But why did you leave?" He hated to ask the question; it seemed so blunt and callous. Yet he blurted it out before common sense could do anything to stop him. 

"Because it was the right thing to do. They needed me on Terminus. Somehow, I always hoped you would come back for me, even though I knew you wouldn't. What did you tell me? 'I'm a Time Lord. I walk in eternity. And that means no going back, no regrets...' I knew what that meant, and I hated it." 

The Doctor felt confused, for not the first time that day. "But how do you know all this? You haven't been here in ages...lifetimes..." 

Nyssa smiled, almost like an angel. "I'm not really here. The me you see before you, who is speaking to you now, is a creation of your TARDIS and your own will, as well as mine. You didn't want me to leave, I didn't want to leave, so the TARDIS made it so a part of me never did. As soon as my mild telepathic link was severed with you and the TARDIS, my memories stop. And I shall always remain this way until Nyssa, the real Nyssa, enters the TARDIS again, if ever. I never grow old, never die. I'm always here, in this room, for you." 

He looked around. It wasn't so oppressively dark, and he could see the walls again. The ivy clinging to them was visible, and the faint sound of trickling water was audible. It was how he knew it to be, how he remembered it to be. The Cloister Room. The heart of the TARDIS. 

"Amazing. I never knew..." 

She took his hand. "You never needed to. You were frightened, unsure and alone. You needed your companions, people you knew and trusted. To give you someone to be brave for. So Jo and Jamie and Ace appeared for just that reason." 

"And you," he added. 

"Yes, and me. And there's nothing to be afraid of in your past." 

"No. Not anymore." He hugged her to him gently. 

"I'm always here, with you. Trust in that." 

"I do." 

"Then you have nothing left to fear. Goodbye, Doctor." A flash of light, then she was gone, leaving the Doctor clutching nothing but air. But, oddly enough, he didn't feel alone anymore. And he knew he never really would be. Smiling, he stood up and looked around. 

"No, nothing left to fear at all." With that, the Doctor left the Cloister Room, and headed into the future. 

The End


End file.
